DA 2010 Episode 7: In Your Heart
by AngelExposed
Summary: Rogue still can't believe Remy will never regain his memory, and Bobby tries to help her gain closure while Kitty attempts to help Remy more. Meanwhile, Hank has a problem... (Finished R&R)
1. Chapter 1: Loss

Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 7

Chapter 1: Loss

             "Jean, there are no traces of his memories anywhere in his mind…I'm afraid Remy will NEVER gain back his memories…" the Professor's voice was quiet, and yet at the same time was so loud and clear that Rogue heard it perfectly from the hallway.

             Tears were threatening to spill, and her stomach lurched, and nausea came to her in waves, she put her hand to her mouth as she felt the bile rise in her throat, and turned to dash down the hall towards the nearest bathroom.  She made it with only a second to spare, in time to shove the toilet lid up and lean over as she heaved and lost the little of the lunch she'd eaten earlier that day.

             She dropped to her knees on the bitterly cold marble tiles of the bathroom, gasping for breath, she'd never been so overwhelmed with emotion that she'd thrown up before.  She rested her cheek against the cold porcelain, her mind swimming with questions until she felt so disorientated that she could barely even remember the run to the bathroom.

             How could it be so?  How could Remy have lost his memories forever – and never have the chance to gain them back?  It seemed like something that might only happen in a soap opera on daytime television, or in a movie.  Surely this couldn't be real life, it couldn't be.

             She pinched herself hard, hoping that it was some godawful dream she could awaken herself from, but as the pain presented itself, and vanished just as quickly when she let go of her flesh, she was still there in the bathroom, and the memory of having heard Remy would never gain his memory back was still haunting her.

             Remy would never be the same.  He'd never be the same charming Cajun he'd once been, he'd never call her 'Chere' again and never speak in sweet romantic French whilst holding her in ways only he could.

             Suddenly, Rogue felt as if Remy had been lost completely, and now, a stranger remained in his place.  Sure that stranger had his eyes, his body, his face, even his voice, but it just wasn't Remy anymore.  She wasn't sure if it was even right to call the stranger in the hospital wing by Remy's name, it didn't seem appropriate anymore.

             The thoughts continued to whirl through her mind, shaking her very soul as if she were being rattled inside out.  She kept telling herself their words could not be true, but they rung out in her head and her heart thudded and instinct told her it was true.

             "Are you alright?" 

             Rogue turned to look over her shoulder, Kitty stood in the doorway, hugging a thick purple cardigan around herself to beat a cold draught that had been plaguing the Mansion's first floor all winter.  

             Rogue wasn't sure how to respond really, she reached over and flushed the toilet weakly, then pulled herself up slowly, trying to steady herself, "I threw up…it just came over me."

             "Maybe you're coming in for some kind of stomach bug," Kitty suggested.

             Rogue studied her friends face for the millionth time since their friendship had begun.  Kitty seemed so pale, drawn, and tired, yet, her exhausted appearance did not take away the youthful attractiveness that she'd been blessed with.  Although Kitty still looked not a day over sixteen, the wisdom of being wiser than her years showed in her sapphire eyes, which were large and round, with long dark heavy lashes.

             Kitty seemed to sense Rogue was deep in though, she brought her out of it, "Maybe you should have an early night?" Kitty glanced at her watch, noting it was past eight pm already.

             Rogue wanted so badly to tell Kitty what she'd heard, but how could she bother her friend with this, Kitty was still grieving over her parents, she had her own concerns.

             "Why are you looking at me like that?" Kitty finally asked, eyebrows furrowing until the space between them became a tiny wrinkled square of flesh.  

             "Remy will never remember who he is," Rogue blurted out, not understanding why she'd said it after having realised it was the wrong thing to say and that Kitty could do without the added stress of knowing this.

             Kitty's face dropped in shock, those large eyes becoming ever wider, her mouth falling into an 'o' shape, eyebrows lifting, "I…no…it can't be."

             "Oh come on," Rogue sighed.  "When has Professor Xavier ever been wrong?" she pointed out, and she could find no instance in her own mind that the Professor had been wrong – none that seemed to stand out anyway.

             "The Professor told you this?" Kitty seemed rather taken aback, it seemed to her that the Professor would not have disclosed such drastic information to Rogue straightforwardly, and so soon.  

             "I overheard him and Jean talking," Rogue stepped out in the hall and began to head towards the large foyer, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor all the while.  She heard Kitty following, pace speeded up more than her own.  

             "What did they say?" Kitty asked, catching up.

             Rogue stopped as they approached the foyer, "they said—" Rogue stopped abruptly, realising her voice was booming over the hall that had such great acoustics due to the high ceiling, marble floors and lack of furnishings.  "They said…" she lowered her voice, chewing her lip for a moment, "that…Remy had no memories hidden anywhere in his mind…and that as far as they're concerned he should have the mentality of a newborn baby or something along those lines," Rogue sighed, "if the memories aren't there he can't regain them back…"

             "That's gotta be bullshit," Kitty responded, her voice a little loud, she lowered it, leaning closer to Rogue to say in barely a whisper, "I mean Professor Xavier is like, the worlds most powerful telepath, how could he NOT be able to somehow restore Remy's mind to the state it was in just before the shooting?"

             Rogue swept her hair back from her face, "I don't know," she shook her head sadly, "all I know is, its like…I've learned that Remy is…dead."

             "Oh come on…dead?  That's a bit drastic, isn't it?  He's right there in the hospital wing, he's breathing, he can move and talk and that's a start…he's not dead."

             "The Remy I knew IS dead," Rogue sat down on the bottom steps of the large staircase, she put her head in her hands.  I can never have him back – and he'll never be the same…" she broke into tears of heartache, "and I never even got to tell him I loved him…"

             Kitty sat by Rogue, clasping her hands in her lap, "I can't believe you're giving up hope on him…I mean…there could still be some way he could recover the memory…and who's to say that what the Professor and Jean say is true?  How do WE know they didn't get it wrong – people make mistakes you know," she jabbered on.

             Rogue shook her head, "the Professor is never wrong."

             "C'mon, Rogue, you know as well as I do he's as human as the rest of us, he makes mistakes just like everyone else.  Maybe he makes LESS of them but the fact is he COULD be wrong about this."

             Rogue shook her head once again, she refused to believe that, if the Professor said it was impossible, it just had to be.

             "Well I'm not giving up hope," Kitty stood up, "The Professor asked me to help him by telling him more about himself and to try and assist him in regaining his memories and I'm certainly going to continue going to see him, and trying to help jog his memory, even if I have to spend hours and hours doing it, I will…I'm not about to give up just yet."

             Rogue's head snapped up, she looked at her friend with a startled expression, "The Professor asked you to help him?" the tears trickled down her face and disappeared on her shirt, the tracks already beginning to dry.

             Kitty shrugged, "Yeah…"

             Rogue stood up too, her full height at five feet and eight inches – slightly accented with the thick soles of her sneakers – seemed to loom over Kitty, who was barely four feet and eleven inches as she stood with her feet only in striped pink socks.  "He asked you…"

             "Yeah," Kitty said again, realising this was something that perhaps Rogue hadn't particularly known or if she had, had only just been reminded of this instant.

             "Why you…?" Rogue asked, although it was more of a demand than a question, suddenly her green eyes seemed to darken to the colour of the needles on a Christmas Tree, her face seemed to lose all its colour.

             "Because I'm…friends with him?" Kitty shrugged, stepping back, she didn't like that expression on Rogue's face, and she'd known her too long to know that when Rogue was in a bad mood or angry, then it was best to stay out of her way.  Kitty realised she perhaps shouldn't have said anything at all.

             "But I'm friends with him!" Rogue retorted, "I was his girlfriend for a year!  I was engaged to him for fucks sake!" 

             "Calm down…please?" Kitty asked in a small voice, she put her hands out motioning in a soothing gesture at Rogue, who seemed to take no notice.

             "No one knows that man in that hospital wing better than I do!" Rogue spat, she was clenching her fists.

             "And you're also in love with him!" Kitty reminded, "The Professor would want to spare you the emotional distress of having to go through trying to teach Remy about himself…"

             "That's bullshit," Rogue turned away, she felt her long silken hair flip around as she did.

             "Rogue…I spent ages with him trying to tell him all about himself, and he looked at me with these…blank…empty eyes…not remembering…" Kitty described, "it made ME feel bad, Rogue, and I'm not even in love with the guy…if you were there, telling him all these things, and having him not remember, lookin' at you like you were a stranger to him, tellin' you he can't remember ever having loved you, or can't even remember your name, do you honestly think it wouldn't hurt?" 

             Rogue looked away, already tears stinging at her eyes once again, Kitty's point was valid.  It would hurt.  It had hurt when she'd been with him in the hospital wing talking to him, and she'd seen that vulnerable look upon his handsome face.  She should have known then, by that childlike expression that he was lost to her forever.

             "Don't let it get you down," Kitty approached, she put her hand on Rogue's shoulder and gripped it firmly, giving her a little reassuring shake, "and I meant what I said…I'm not going to give up, even if the Professor and Jean – and you are," she added, let go of her shoulder, bid Rogue a good night, and headed upstairs. 


	2. Chapter 2: Books

Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 7

Chapter 2:  Books

             That next morning Kitty Pryde found herself climbing a small narrow staircase, which lead in to the massive attic space of the Mansion's middle section, she opened the door, a little stiff from dampness, and crept quietly inside.  

Although the mansion was basically a new building – only but nine or ten years old now – it seemed almost ancient as Kitty heard the creak of the floorboards under her light footsteps.  On the opposing wall, fifteen feet away, a small window in the centre of the room provided a small shaft of light cutting through the velvety brown darkness of the musty smelling room.  Kitty squinted through the darkness, eventually locating the light switch.

             The light was dim and unkind, three bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling lit, one blew with a small cracking sound, and that side of the attic was plunged into darkness.  Kitty winced, and carried onwards.

             Several pieces of furniture, some old, some antique, were covered in grimy old sheets, others lay to the exposure of the dust.  Boxes were stacked against a wall away in the back, Kitty made her way across, stepping over piles of old newspapers, and vinyl records. 

She studied the cardboard boxes, all with words or names scrawled over them in black permanent marker.  There was some order to the boxes, Kitty noticed, which made her decide Hank McCoy, with his methodical organisational skills had to have taken some part in putting the boxes in the attic in the first place.  Some of the boxes were simply dated.  

One she noted was a long box, about two feet tall by a foot and a half wide, worded and dated in black marker.  "Misc 2003 – 2005," she said to herself, "this has gotta be it," she added, glad to her own voice in the unnaturally quiet attic.  

Kitty pulled the box out of the stack carefully and put it down, she ripped off the tape that held the flaps together, and pulled the box open, gazing inside, there were various items, old clothes, old computer games that had been left by students who had resided in the mansion over the years – items never claimed.  Among these items, Kitty found what she was looking for.  Books.

She hauled a pile of the books out of the box, she sat folded legged on the grimy floor and sifted through them.  Horror books, by Anne Rice, and one red leather bound book, she opened the book up and glanced through it momentarily, the pages filled with handwritten French.  She realised it was a journal, she closed it before she had a chance to recognise the words.  

"Maybe some of his old stuff might help him remember," Kitty said to herself distantly, she reached into the box to search other items, there was an envelope, it had something heavy within in it, Kitty took the envelope out to examine it further.  She ripped the envelope open, ripping a little too far, causing the contents to spill onto her lap. 

Photographs.  Several of them.  Glossy, shining up at her.  Kitty held them up to the light to inspect them.  "Oh my gosh," she gave a soft whisper.  In the first photo she held up, Rogue was standing over a large birthday cake, wearing a burgundy satin dress, her makeup exquisite, her lips curled into a smile.  It was a picture from Rogue's seventeenth birthday party.

Kitty flicked through the pictures, she herself was in several of them, so were the others, Bobby, and Hank, the Professor, Amara, even Tabitha.  A few caught Kitty's eye in particular.  Rogue and Remy together, their arms around each others, pure happiness stretched upon their faces.  Rogue, the delighted birthday girl, Remy the handsome man in his twenties in a dapper suit with one of the most genuine smiles that Kitty had ever seen on that face.  Not a knowing smirk, but a real smile.

Kitty picked the books up, sighing to herself, wishing it were possible to go back in time and fix these things for her friends.  Maybe go back to the day Jared Rickman was accepted into the institute and convince the Professor to change his mind about the boy.  Jared Rickman's not being there would have prevented Remy and Rogue's breakup, it would have prevented Remy from accidentally killing the boy.  It would have prevented so many things.  Kitty shuddered, thinking of this.  It was strange how someone could have such an impact on someone's lives – good or bad.

Kitty left the attic, trying to leave behind those bad memories with it, she'd seen what those bad memories had done to Rogue and Remy, and she didn't want the echoes of that in her thoughts as she visited Remy.

 Ten minutes later, Kitty was stepping through the hospital wing door, "Morning, sunshine," she said brightly, trying to maintain a positive attitude, she approached the bed, she had the pile of books in her arms still, she dropped them on the cabinet beside the bed.

             "What's all this?" Remy yawned, he had only just woken up and still appeared to be half asleep, his hair unkempt, his face unshaven as usual.  He leaned up a little, wincing at the pain from his wound.  

             "I figured you're probably getting bored in here, there isn't much to do in here apart from sit and count the cracks in the ceiling," Kitty responded, sifting through the books.

             "Thirty three," Remy replied.

             "Huh?" Kitty tilted her head slightly as she chose a book out of the pile. 

             "Cracks on the ceiling," he responded, he gestured upwards towards the ceiling stealing a glance at her, "there are thirty three."

             Kitty stared up to the ceiling uneasily, had he really spent time counting the cracks on the ceiling?  But he was right, there were several noticeable cracks on the ceiling, some were barely hairline, but noticeable nonetheless.   "Oh…maybe I should mention to the Professor that he should have that ceiling fixed…" she said absently, "There's a hallway just above this room that gets a lot of punishment on its floor – a lot of running around, and stuff," she explained.  "One day the ceiling will end up caving down on us," she gave an impish grin  "Anyway, here," she handed Remy the book she'd chosen.

             Remy read the title, "Interview with the Vampire," he read the title, "catchy title…"

             "Seem familiar?" Kitty hoped, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

             "Not in the slightest," Remy turned the book over to read the back of the cover.  "Should it?" he queried casually.

             Kitty sat on the side of the bed, "Well…around seven years ago you were a big fan of all her books, you owned all of the vampire ones I think, and this was yours…" Kitty took the book from him and opened it, the inside cover had an ace of spades drawn onto it, and the initials R.L. scrawled in neat almost artistic lettering with black biro.  "See?  Your initials…"

             Remy touched the inside of the book, tracing the lines of the doodle, feeling the slight groves where the pen had pressed too hard into the cover.  "It doesn't ring a bell…sorry," he said frustrated, he let his head drop back into his pillow as he gave a weary sigh.

             Kitty thought for a moment, "Well…later on, when I'm not around, you should read it," She said, "you never know, it might help," she shrugged.  "These here are all books that were put into a storage box years ago when…well…I'll tell you some other time."

Remy fell silent, seemingly deep in thought about what she was withholding from him, but he'd learned quickly that asking her or anyone else to tell him things he needed to know did not get him the answers at all, he realised he'd have to wait until she was ready to tell him.

Kitty reached over to the pile of books, "Oh, and I found this," she picked another book from the pile, this was the red leather bound book.

             "What is it?" he asked, another yawn escaping his lips.

             "I'm not sure," she lied, "I think it might be a diary of yours from years ago, but its in French…and I don't think I know any French to translate it so I can't tell," Kitty explained, looking away from him.  She hoped her face hid her lies, although her eyes probably gave her away.  Kitty knew enough French to be able to read the book inside out – perhaps slightly botching a translation as she wasn't exactly as fluent as Remy had been – but the fact was she didn't want to look in the book in case she found out something personal and embarrassing about him or Rogue.  There was no telling what might be in the diary.  Besides, if Remy should recover his memory, he might be embarrassed also if Kitty had seen what he'd written.

             Remy took the book, opening the pages up he peered at them curiously, "I…don't know French."

             "You're bilingual in it," Kitty admitted, "Although I think I told you that already," she added, she reached into her pocket to pull out a small travel sized hairbrush, "oh, and I brought this for you," she said.

             "A hairbrush?" Remy seemed rather flustered, and unsure of why she'd brought it.

             "You have hair, don't you?" Kitty pointed out, "and a lot of it, and it hasn't been brushed in a while by the looks of it," Kitty pointed out.

             Remy picked up a long tangled lock of his hair and sighed, "Yes…this…another thing I don't remember…why the hell would anyone grow their hair this length?" he asked, "especially a guy…I mean…isn't this really feminine for a guy to have long hair?"

             "Not really," Kitty smirked, "back in the day you used to have short hair, kind of mussed but really attractive," she stood and moved over to him, taking a handful of his thick brown hair and running the brush through the bottom of it, carefully removing the tangles.

             "What else was I like 'back in the day'?" Remy queried, letting her deal with his hair as he felt he didn't have enough strength to resist, however strange it felt to have a woman messing with hair he couldn't remember growing.

             "Dapper…" Kitty smirked, "well, occasionally, you had flair, and you always smelt good," she giggled a little, still brushing the hair.  "You liked to listen to a lot of…alternative music," Kitty said, "David Gray…Coldplay…Travis, Vertical Horizon, stuff like that," Kitty explained, "If I can, I'll see if I can dig out some of your old CDs, they might still be around."

             "Old CDs…why do I get the feeling, just from the way everyone has talked to me – that there was a big space where I wasn't here…?"

             Kitty made a face, "well…" she drew her breath trying to think of a way to nicely put it, "there was a big space of time where you weren't here."

             "When?"

             "You left around seven years ago…" Kitty admitted.

             "I was gone for seven years?  Where did I go?" Remy asked.

             Kitty paused, looking away distantly, "funny thing is…none of us really know."


	3. Chapter 3: Just a Suggestion

Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 7

Chapter 3:  Just a Suggestion

             Rogue dropped into a seat in a small booth at McDuggins bar, "what a day," she groaned, she leaned back against the cold leather, her head resting comfortably, she glanced across the table at Bobby Drake who had been sitting waiting for her at the bar for twenty minutes – they'd arranged to meet there.

             "Had some trouble?" Bobby asked casually.

             "Yes," Rogue glanced down, he'd already gotten her a drink, a long vodka.  She took the glass and sipped from the straw, "Monet St. Croix…that girl is impossible…I know she's our cleverest student but she questions EVERYTHING and tries to make us all look stupid," she sighed, "I was doing this danger room session today with the students, and the goal was to go through the exercise without killing ANYTHING," she began to explain, she took yet another sip, "and Monet, as usual—"

             "Let me guess," Bobby took a quick drink from his bottle of beer, "questioned 'why' and pointed out 'where would the victory be' if they learned how to go through battle without hurting someone?"

             "Actually yes," Rogue stated, "she loves to argue…and question my methods of instruction…"

             "How does Logan deal with her these days?" Bobby asked.

             "Oh, you can only imagine," Rogue sighed, "he takes her with a pinch of salt and pretends she doesn't bother him in the slightest, and whenever she tries to question HIS methods of instruction he gives her punishment which doesn't bother her in the slightest, he makes her do three hundred sit ups and she doesn't break a sweat or anything…its so sickening…"

             "Yeah," Bobby smirked.  "Apart from the boy students who drool over her, I don't think there's anyone in the mansion who can stand her," he grinned.

             Rogue's expression changed slowly, she was staring distantly at the wall as if she were seeing beyond it, playing with a curl of her hair which had fallen loose of the ponytail she was wearing her hair in.  

             "Jesus, don't say you're thinking of Gambit again," Bobby's expression dropped, "seriously Rogue, this isn't healthy," his voice became as cold as the ice he was known for.

             "Neither is just having a heart of ice and pretending it doesn't bother me," Rogue pointed out, "How can you deal with your feelings if you just shut them out?" she queried, she leaned forward on the table, "besides…doesn't matter how I feel anymore," she sighed, "The professor and Jean are convinced that Remy will never get his memory back…"

             Bobby's face didn't betray his surprise in the slightest, "Really?" he asked, although his tone was flat, as if he didn't really care.  "So…what are they going to do with the memory-less  Remy."

"I don't know," Rogue sighed, "I guess continue to try and help him even when they know it won't be any good…I know Kitty is determined to help him until he's the way he was before any of this happened."

"Ohhh," Bobby nodded, he took another swig from the bottle of Budweiser.

"I think even Kitty feels a bit hopeless about it, to be honest," Rogue confessed, "but…she's not going to give up hope…she doesn't think I should ever."

             "How do you feel about it all?" Bobby asked, for a moment, he sounded so much like a psychiatrist being paid four-hundred dollars an hour.  The infamous question they were all known for.

"How do you expect me to feel?" Rogue asked, her eyes fell to the table top, she stirred her drink absently with her straw, listening to the ice clink against the glass.  "I can't describe it…"

"Sure you can," Bobby reached over, taking her hand to stop her stirring the drink, "tell me what's in your heart?"

"I feel like he's gone forever," Rogue despaired, her eyes glittering with what was about to become tears, "as if he's dead."

"Well…maybe that's a good thing?" he said, suddenly brightening his tone, "I mean, hey, if that's how you're thinking and you feel like he's dead maybe that means you're dealing with it like he is?  He can't get his memory back, he'll never remember anything he did to you and will never mention it, therefore you can pretend like he doesn't exist, or the old Remy didn't exist or what ever."

Rogue wasn't sure whether to cry at what Bobby had just said or to be angry, she was somewhere in between, "That's a horrible thing to think."

"You said it, not me…you feel like he's gone forever, I mean, for all the difference it makes, Remy might as well be dead," Bobby put bluntly.

Rogue gaped, she couldn't believe he could be so forward and careless about the way he worded this sensitive subject.

             Bobby continued thoughtfully, as he glanced up to the ceiling, "You'll mourn, you'll deal with it, you'll move on."

             Rogue would have stood up and left if she could have found the strength to muster up the anger to do so, only with her long day training the students in the danger room, as well as other things she'd had to deal with, and the emotional drainage of Remy's situation, she felt too feeble to attempt to do so.

             "How…" she began trying to summon up the strength just to argue, "How…can I just forget, and move on…he's still there to remind me…" she stated, her mind going to the last time she'd seen him, it had been his face, but it had not been Remy behind those eyes, it had been void, not the man she'd known at all.  

             "I'm not saying you'll forget him totally, or that sometimes you won't think about him, but you'll get over it…" Bobby admitted.

             Rogue blinked and a tear slid down her cheek, she quickly wiped it away on the back of her glove, "That day he left, I silently swore to myself I was never going to feel anything for Remy again," she admitted, "and as much as I hated him – and still do for a lot of things…" another tear escaped, she dried it away with a finger of her glove, "I never thought I'd miss him…" she remained silent for a few moments after this.

             Bobby squeezed her other hand, keeping his eyes on hers, he could see the emotion building in her face, and wished there was something he could do to release it so she could finally heal.

             "I don't know what's going on in my head anymore, Bobby," Rogue put her hands over her face, her head low.  "I hate him, and I love him, and I miss him but I can't miss him because he's still there, and its all a mess…and I don't know what to do anymore…" she sobbed.

             "Maybe what you need is closure," Bobby said.

Rogue raised her hands, her mascara slightly streaking in fresh tears, "closure?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Yeah, closure," Bobby was rubbing his chin thoughtfully now, his cool blue eyes still gazing up at the ceiling, "something to kind of help you move on from Remy and start getting on with your life…I mean where is that beautiful FUN Rogue who was there just before Cajun boy made a reappearance…its like you're a whole other person now."

             "People change," Rogue said, indignantly.

             "Yes, and the sooner you get Remy out of your mind, the sooner you'll change back to a much better person, trust me – oh, and your makeup is running down your face," Bobby pointed out discretely in a quiet tone as if perhaps makeup were something not to be mentioned in polite society.

             "Have you been reading Hank's psychology books or something?" Rogue asked, as if trying to change the subject, she reached into the bag she'd brought with her, finding a tissue, she dried her face off carefully, and dabbed under her eyes, knowing she must look a mess.

             "Well, one was lying open once when I went to the lab to ask him if he had something for bad rashes."

             Rogue made a face, "Rash?" she sniffled and blew her nose.

             "Not THAT kind of rash," Bobby said haughtily, realising she'd assumed perhaps it was some kind of embarrassing rash where most people wouldn't generally like to admit they had one.  "I mean like the kind of rash you get on your arms and legs when someone uses cheap brand laundry detergent on your clothes and it breaks you out," He stated firmly and shuddered at the thought, "But anyway…so how about this closure thing?"

             Rogue tapped her fingers on the table absently, thinking about it.  She did want to forget Remy, she wanted to get back to normal again, feeling happy, having fun and never having to worry about Remy LeBeau and his feelings again.  Maybe Bobby was right, maybe it was exactly what she needed.

             Finally, after a few moments of silence, Rogue opened her mouth to speak, "what did you have in mind?"

             Bobby paused for thought, as he did so he gently ran his index finger along the nozzle of his bottle of Budweiser, Rogue watched with fascination as slowly the smooth surface of the glass began to frost over, she saw tiny hairs of ice travelling along the glass like fingers, intermingling and twining together in a maze of sparkling brilliance until nothing but a thin sheet of frost coated the glass.

             Bobby finally spoke, "A funeral."

             Rogue blinked, "A funeral?" now she was truly puzzled.

             "What better way to get closure on someone's death?" Bobby asked.

             Rogue leaned back a little, looking at the man with disbelief, "you want us to bury the man ALIVE?" she asked.

             "No, don't be stupid…" Bobby rolled his eyes but smiled.

             Rogue folded her arms, "you're suggesting a funeral for someone who's still alive, and I'M the one who's being stupid?" she felt slightly more at ease than before now.  

             Bobby swept his hair back with his icy hand and for one moment, Rogue was positive she could see he'd put frost in his hair, as under the bad lighting of the bar, his sandy hair almost seemed to shimmer.  "It's not as stupid as it sounds…" he said, "I'll mull over the details with you later," Bobby finished the contents of his bottle.

             Rogue felt a shiver run up her spine, she was curious as to what Bobby might have in mind, and she was slightly jarred by the question of whether she really did want closure on Remy Lebeau.  Sighing she finished the drink in front of her.  "I'll have another one of these," she stated to Bobby.


	4. Chapter 4: Closure

Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 7

Chapter 4:  Closure

             Rogue staggered into the small office opposite the hospital wing, her head was still swimming from the alcohol.  She was looking for something – anything – that belonged to Remy LeBeau.  She knew they had to have brought him in with some belongings, even something he'd been wearing would be adequate enough for the closure she needed.  She crept in quietly, and closed the door behind herself, she turned the light on hoping it wouldn't disturb anyone.

             No, its one am, they're all asleep, she assured herself positively, she tripped over her own foot and fell with a thud to the floor, she hoped no one heard.  Remy was only in the next room, and she'd always known his hearing to be exceptionally acute.  

             Rogue shook her head at herself.  It's not Remy, she thought at herself angrily, Remy's hearing was good because he was a THIEF, it's part of his training, listening.  She pulled herself up and continued across the room, there was a box on the floor near the corner by the window, she hurried over and knelt by it, glancing in she found what she was looking for.

             In the box, were a number of small objects all in a large thick clear plastic zip lock bag, a leather wallet caught her eye, she opened the bag, picked the wallet out, unzipped the sides and opened it up.  Lockpicking tools, the tools of his trade, something he never went anywhere with out.  A pack of cards, which she counted, there were fifteen cards missing from the deck.  An elastic band, which she noted had a number of hairs still attached to it.  And then something caught her eye.  A black cotton case, wrapped around something rectangular shaped, she reached in and took the case, pulling the draw string top open and reaching in.  She pulled out a silver case, an engraved ace of spades was at the very bottom left hand corner of the top.  It was a tobacco case, she'd given it to him one Christmas.  

             Tears sprang to her eyes, but before she could realise she was crying, she was brought back from her memories. 

             "Rogue…what's taking you so long," came a low whisper, Rogue spun around, Bobby Drake had been waiting for her, she'd almost forgotten.  "C'mon, it's getting really windy out there, we should do this now before it gets worse," Bobby said, he noticed she was crying again, but didn't press on it.

             "Okay," Rogue sniffled, she dried her face on her sleeve realising she had felt the tears streaming down her face once again, she put everything back into the plastic bag once again.  "I got the stuff, this is all his," she stated.

             "Good, it'll do," Bobby took the bag from her, "you're sure this is his stuff and not Hank's?"

             "A lockpicking kit and a silver tobacco case?" Rogue breathed, "unless Hank took up some other life we know nothing about, then this is Remy's…besides, I recognise the tobacco case, I gave it to Remy one Christmas…our first Christmas together," Rogue explained softly.

             "Come on," Bobby said, ignoring her reminiscing, they wove through the halls of the mansion and left through the back entrance into the gardens.  The gardens were immaculate, although the flowers had long since wilted from the current winter, and soon the flowers would bloom again boasting the oncoming spring. 

Bobby stopped at a small shed near the back of the gardens, to pick up a shovel, and some flashlights, and then they continued to walk and walk, until they passed the gardens into a field that was part of the estate, but unused, most of the field had become overgrown with weeds and long grass that tickled Rogue's bare knees beneath her denim skirt.

The grass rippled in the wind like waves of a treacherous ocean around them, Rogue's ponytail kept whipping around and swatting her in the face, Bobby's eyes were squinted as the breeze assailed his eyes.

             "Why so far?" Rogue asked, she continued to let Bobby lead the way through the darkness, she could barely make anything out at all in the light that came only from a low hanging moon and the weak beams from their large flashlights.  Rogue glanced over her shoulder, the Mansion standing in the distance, a few dim street lamps lit the area around the mansion so that it was still visible, and behind one window, a lonely light burned.  Kitty's room, Rogue thought dully as she caught up with Bobby who was still walking.

             "Because that way no one can find and dig the stuff up," Bobby explained, he stopped abruptly, a small patch where the grass wasn't so thick or the weeds weren't so tangled, he pushed the shovel into the ground, and pressed his foot down upon the spade edge to give it momentum so it thrust into the hard slightly damp earth, "here should do."

             Rogue watched Bobby dig a small hole.  All the while her mind was throwing questions at her, she kept asking herself if this would really help.  What other alternatives were there?  None…nothing that would help her get over Remy.  Bobby was right, he had to believe.  After all, he was her friend, she had no reason to doubt him, no matter how crazy this idea had seemed. 

             Bobby dropped the plastic bag with all of Remy's belongings into the hole, "do you want to say anything?" he asked.

             Rogue wasn't sure what Bobby meant, "Uhm…what'd you mean?"

             "Like a eulogy or whatever," Bobby said, "or a final goodbye…"

             "It's not like he can HEAR," Rogue sighed, "its not like he's a spirit and will hear it."

             "Whatever, look…do you want to say anything or not?" Bobby asked.

             Rogue paused for a moment, she had several things she wanted to say, but she didn't think she could say them in front of Bobby Drake.  "Could…you give me a few moments alone?" she asked hopefully.

             "Okay," Bobby sighed, "I'll be over there," he gestured to another stretch of the field, "be quick though, the wind is picking up," he added, then he headed off into the area he'd pointed out, leaving Rogue standing at the hole in the ground.

             Rogue shone her flashlight upon the hole, sighing, she wasn't sure where to begin in saying how she felt, and she believed herself rather foolish standing here staring at a hole pretending it was Remy LeBeau's buried remains.  "I don't know what to say, Remy," she sighed, she sat down on the slightly damp grass, "How can I say in two minutes what it took me eight years to come to terms with?" she sighed, "and how can I just act like you're dead when you're really in that hospital wing with no idea who I am or what we were to each other…" 

             She waited, as if she expected to hear Remy's voice, instead, only the rustle of the long grass in the wind broke her silence. 

             "I love you," she kept her voice low, feeling incredibly silly, "I wish say that to your face instead of this stupid hole in the ground," she muttered, "I wish I could tell you how I wish I left with you that night you said we should run away together – I keep thinking if we had maybe you'd have never hurt Jared accidentally and everything would be fine…" shivered, the cold damp grass chilling her bare legs, "I just hope you can forgive me for wanting closure on 'us'," she murmured to the hole, she pulled herself up off the ground, "and that you can forgive me for saying goodbye, Remy…" she bit her lip to stop herself from crying, she turned, hearing Bobby approaching.

             "You done then, Rogue?" Bobby asked, hands in the pockets of his faded bottle green jacket, his hair ruffling in the wind, his eyes boring into her.

             "I think so," Rogue dusted a few stray blades of loose grass off of the back of her skirt, "I think I got all the closure I can out of this," she gave one last look to the bag of contents, and pursed her lips together tightly.

             Bobby thrust the shovel in the pile of loose earth he'd dug up, and he began to fill the hole, his breath misting in the cold air as he did.  Rogue watched as Bobby buried the only items Remy LeBeau had carried with him, she felt no relief once the hole was completely filled, and Bobby was stomping down on the soil to firm it.

             They made their way back to the mansion in complete silence, Rogue would not let herself cry in front of Bobby again, she'd let herself cry too much in front of her closest friends  in the past week and she was beginning to feel far too overemotional and pitiable that it made her flush with embarrassment every time she felt the familiar tension in her head just before the tears came.  

             She parted from Bobby with a simple goodnight, and headed on upstairs.  Instead of heading towards her own bedroom, she made a beeline for Kitty's room, and knocked on the door.  Having seen the light still on as she'd been approaching the mansion, it seemed more than likely her friend was still awake.

             The door opened, Kitty peered out from between the small gap.

             "Just thought I'd come have a chat," Rogue smiled feebly, hugging her jacket around her, still feeling the chill.

             Kitty stepped away from the door, allowing entry, and Rogue strode in.  The room was warm, inviting, but there an air of sadness hovering around it that Rogue couldn't place.  Maybe it was from the photos of Kitty's parents on the nightstand, or maybe it was just that sad and distant expression on Kitty's face.

             "Kitty…be honest…do you think the Professor and Jean are wrong?" Rogue asked, she'd barely known she was going to say this until it was blurted out.  Rogue sat on the edge of Kitty's bed.

             "I don't know what to think," Kitty sat down near the dresser, she picked up a brush and began to run it through her short silky brown hair, "I guess they could be."

             "Why?" Rogue asked quietly, she glanced around the room, admiring its feminine charm.  

             "Because its like you said…if Remy's mind was wind totally clean, he wouldn't be able to talk or walk or think…" Kitty stared at Rogue's reflection in her mirror, "there's something they're missing, Rogue…they went in and out of his mind but didn't find anything, no memories of HOW he learned to talk or walk or think the way he does?  Maybe there's a section of his mind that's invisible to them, or maybe they just aren't as powerful as they thought," Kitty put the hairbrush down.

             "You really believe that?" Rogue felt tears brimming but refused to let them go.

             "What do you believe?" Kitty turned around in her seat, giving her a meaningful look. 

             Rogue paused, she began to think, frowning.  What did she believe?  She wasn't sure.

             "Think long and heart, Rogue…in your mind, in your soul, in your HEART, what do you believe?" Kitty asked.

             "That it can't be the end," Rogue sighed, looking over at her.

             Kitty nodded, "yeah, that's what I feel too," she said, "it just doesn't seem right, doesn't feel right…"

             "I want to believe it, it seems like it is real but…it just can't be," Rogue shook her head, "If Remy were incurable then why does he still have some knowledge?  It doesn't make sense."

             "Right…that's why I'm not giving up hope," Kitty looked at her, "and you shouldn't either," she added.  "Right now…that's all we've got.  Hope."


	5. Chapter 5: Research

Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 7

Chapter 5: Research

             "Hey, Hank," Rogue said loudly as she entered into dim laboratory, no sight of Henry McCoy in sight, she glanced around, her voice seemed to echo off the walls, seeming far louder than it really was.  "Hank?"

             "Be right with you, dear," Hank's voice replied, Rogue moved forward, leaning over the counter directly in front of her, Hank was kneeling on the floor behind the counter, searching through a box.

             "Oh, there you are," Rogue rested her elbows on the counter top, watching him, his large clawed hands were skilfully flicking through small thin notepads, his eyes squinted in concentration as he gazed beyond his glasses. 

             Rogue examined all the piles of books on the floor, several of them bearing Hank's fast and chaotic handwriting – which was indecipherable to anyone but himself.  "What's all this?" Rogue asked softly, watching him closely.  There was something very frantic about the way he was searching, the expression on his face was a mix of frenzied serenity that few people would recognise in him.  Although Hank looked much the beast with his blue fur, his large canines and huge almost ape like hands, he was rarely seen out of a tranquil manner, he seldom became annoyed. 

             But that calm was quickly deteriorating from his expression, Rogue could see the fur on the back of his neck bristling, and his indigo eyes were almost disappearing below his frown.

             "Its my research," Hank stated, his tone brusque, he put another pile of books from the box aside and began to flick through more, his expression becoming more and more concerned, his hands shaking now with aggravation.  "All my notes on my research," he gestured to the books.

             "Wow, there's a lot of it," Rogue admitted as her eyes travelled across the piles of books and notepads.  She hadn't quite realised just how much research Hank spent his time with, but now that she thought about it, it seemed every other day he was talking about something to do with the research and experiments he liked to do in his free time, and now she felt rather foolish in her statement.  

             "Yes, there is," Hank said, his tone busy, he was still flicking through piles, "come on, where is it?!" he asked himself angrily, he let go of the notepads and clenched his fists.

             "Where's what?" Rogue asked, although it seemed quite obvious there was a particular notepad he was looking for.

             "My research for DNA tweaking – with the spiders."

             "Oh, the thing where you think you can change their DNA from a mutant to a non-mutant?" Rogue asked, hoping she had the description right.

             "Yes, that," Hank replied, looking very anxious now, "the spiders are gone – and I haven't been able to find a trace of them anywhere…" he voiced a sigh, and shook his head in self pity, "and now I can't find the notebook that has ALL the important research," he slammed his hand so loudly on the counter that it rattled all the beakers and test tubes that had been sitting upon it, Rogue jumped back, a little unnerved.  

             "Don't you back that information up?" Rogue queried.

             "Normally I do, and that's WHY I was looking for it, to do that now…and ironically I can't find the notebooks…"

             Rogue echoed that, "ironically."

             Hank ran a hand through his China black hair, "how could I be so irresponsible as to have lost my notes?!?" he demanded angrily.

             Rogue paused for thought, she was wondering that too.  Hank was so organised it seemed impossible for him to have lost this by accident, "maybe you didn't," she admitted, "hey, have you pissed any of the students off lately?" 

             "What are you getting at?" Hank asked, raising a bushy eyebrow above the rim of his glasses.

             "I mean, what if – just to get you back for a bad grade or something – one of the students happened to take the book…"

             Hank paused, "I don't think anyone would…well…there's Monet…" he paused, "I did aggravate her…"

             "How?" Rogue asked curiously, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, watching Hank closely.

             "She was questioning my teaching methods in front of the class I was teaching, so I told her off – and then sent her to the Professor, who by all accounts gave her a final warning about her attitude…"

             "Maybe it was her," Rogue suggested, "we all have trouble with her, and she has a grudge against almost every teacher or instructor in the mansion."

             "But Monet?" Hank asked, he shrugged, and scratched the back of his neck, "she just seems far too…sophisticated and mature to even want to try and steal my research notes – even to get back at me for that little incident."

             "You never know," Rogue shrugged, "doesn't seem like there could be any other explanation, it had to have been taken.  Come on, Hank, you're anally-retentively-organised so much – you have a system for EVERYTHING.  I doubt you could have just misplaced the book…"

             Hank sighed, "perhaps you're right, but I don't think its fair to blame anyone, after all, it might be my own fault for not having locked the research away."

             "Maybe," Rogue shrugged, "But its not your fault if someone who's malicious and bitchy decides to come and take it, is it?" she pointed out.

             "Sounds like Monet isn't the only one in the mansion holding a grudge," Hank smirked.

             "Can you blame me?" Rogue sighed, "she's impossible to be around, she always wants to know the ins and outs of a cats ass and thinks she knows better than everyone – including the Professor.  She thinks she's so far superior to everyone just because her Daddy's rich.  She's like a spoilt little princess," Rogue made a face.

             Hank smirked, Rogue's expression and tone were far more immature than she tended to be.  "Ah, You wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?" he realised, it was rare she'd come down to his laboratory unless she had something on her mind.

             "It's not really important anymore," Rogue decided, she'd wanted to ask about amnesia, and other possible cures for it, to ask if there was any research she could do, but she realised if that were the case, Hank and the Professor would probably be doing it at the moment.  "It's more important that you find your research book," Rogue finally stood up straight and smoothed down her top, "listen, I'll go have a word with Monet, okay?"

             "Alright, but don't be too hard on her, alright, after all, she might be innocent for all we know," Hank reminded.

             "I know," Rogue smiled slightly, and left the room.

             Rogue wandered the mansion until she found Monet St Croix.  The beautiful sixteen year old was sitting at the edge of the leather couch, her long slender legs curled under her, her nose in a book.  Other students were sprawled over the room, some lying on the floor as they watched an episode of 'Friends', some apparently doing homework.  

Rogue folded her arms casually and approached, "Monet, can I have a word with you?"

             Monet didn't raise her sloe eyes from the book, instead she continued to read, and calmly replied, "you mean 'may I'," even as she turned the page her delicate grace and patience showed.

             Rogue felt her temper flare, it wasn't the first time that week Monet had corrected her, but because there were several other students and Rogue didn't feel like causing a scene.  "Hallway, now," she stated, trying to match Monet's cool tone, and she headed out into the hall waiting.  

             Monet appeared a moment later, her long silken black hair cascading over one shoulder.

             "Your attitude…" Rogue began, it wasn't what she'd meant to touch upon but she'd had enough, and had to make her feelings known.

             "Is something that isn't your place to deal with," Monet retorted all too quickly, "You're an instructor, not my mother, and not even a headmistress here – all you are is a danger room instructor, and hmm," Monet paused for thought, then smirked, "your authority there is even questionable," she reminded, "so it is neither your right nor place to 'tell me off'," Monet's expression remained calm and very adult like, although Rogue could see that in her eyes there was a hint of amusement.  

             Rogue pointed a finger at Monet, "listen to me," she said, her accent thickening as her anger grew closer to flaring out of control with the girl, "while I'm still an instructor at this school I have the right to deal with a student in the way I see fit, the professor isn't getting through to you, Jean can't, and Scott can't either," Rogue wagged her finger at the girl.

             Monet moved back slightly looking at Rogue's hand as if it might be a weapon, "and your point is?" she reached out and pushed Rogue's hand away so it was no longer pointing at her.

             "What ever qualms or problems you might have with us does NOT give you the right for retribution by stealing instructors and teachers personal items!" Rogue growled, her eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

             Monet raised an eyebrow, still remaining perfectly serene, her expression never changing, "what are you talking about?" she asked, although her face showed barely any sign of knowing what Rogue was talking about, her voice sounded slightly perplexed, if not a little panicked. 

             "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Rogue hated herself for getting like this, she hadn't meant to fly off the handle at the girl, but felt she had very little choice when Monet was standing so unruffled by what she was saying.

             "I assure you, I do not," Monet folded her slender well toned arms over her stomach, she raised on eyebrow as if waiting for Rogue to react.

             "You stole Beast's research notes because he got you in trouble with the Professor, don't think we couldn't figure it out," Rogue felt her words must have sounded terribly silly to Monet, who had a larger vocabulary and a much more eloquent way of using it.

             Monet gave a very slight laugh, which echoed ever so slightly along the quiet hall, "is that what you think?  That I'm so petty I'd resort to stealing someone's useless 'research notes' to get retribution for a telling-off?" Monet's eyes glittered, and she laughed more now.

             Rogue frowned, "don't deny it, Monet, you're the only one who would have."

             Monet's smile dropped, she regained her ever tranquil expression as if she had all the time in the world to resolve this, as if Rogue's words were not getting through.  "Tell me, Rogue, were you this suspicious before Gambit messed with your head?" 

             And that did it.

             Rogue's temper flared to the point she thought she'd lash out.  She felt her mouth drop in a gasp.  How dare she.  How DARE she.  

             Monet continued to speak, seeming to enjoy Rogue's gaping expression, "You have no proof I did anything, and until you do, this conversation is null," she turned to head back into the recreation room, but stopped, glancing over her shoulder with a thoughtful on her beautiful face, "spend less time accusing people of things they didn't do, Rogue, and spend some time in therapy," she added, then feigned a sickly sweet smile, then was gone.

             Rogue shuddered and tried to shake her anger off, but couldn't.  How dare she.


	6. Chapter 6: Pushed

Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 7

Chapter 6: Pushed

Rogue lay awake, her mind still reeling from the conversation she'd had with Monet St Croix earlier that night.  The words kept echoing through her head.

"Tell me, Rogue, were you this suspicious before Gambit messed with your head?"

Rogue closed her eyes tight and tried to will the words out of her head.  She kept pleading with herself not to think about it anymore, it was keeping her awake and she was so tired that her body felt weighted and ached with exhaustion.

How had Monet even known?  Rogue wished she'd asked, how could the girl have possibly known about the problems that had resulted from the relationship she'd had with Remy when she was sixteen?  It seemed almost impossible.

Rogue rolled over restlessly, her cheek against her pressed hands, she shivered in spite of the rooms comfortable temperature.  There was something so unnerving about a student knowing about her past.  

When Remy had first been brought to the mansion it had only been a day when the whole institute had been buzzing with rumours and whispers between students about the things Remy was thought to have done – relating to the murder of Jared.  Rogue had known there had also been speculation she'd once dated him, but she hadn't known that anyone had known for sure, and she hadn't known anyone could have possibly known about the things Remy had put her through.  

Her heart felt as if someone were gripping at it with a clenched fist as she thought of these things.  How could they have found out unless someone had told them?  None of her friends surely could have been so tactless as to have mentioned it to the students surely?  It didn't seem possible that someone would have betrayed her.

How could she expect to hold the students respect with information like this passing around from person to person – would Monet keep this information to herself or would she tell the whole school until they were all ridiculing Rogue for having let a man ruin her life so long ago.

Maybe going out for a fly might clear my head, Rogue thought tiredly she pulled herself out of bed, crossing the room in her nightgown and pulling the window open.  She climbed out awkwardly leapt off the edge, catching herself in mid air.  She sailed through the air gracefully, her hair flowing out behind her in the strong February winds as she flew across the field.  She squinted her eyes against the wind and tried to focus through the darkness, finally she saw it.  Yes, there it was.  

             The earthen mound that had been a hole Bobby Drake had dug there.  Rogue tilted her body so that her feet were pointing towards the ground at a slant, and she began to slowly let her altitude falter until her.  She felt her bare feet and ankles touch the long damp grass.  

             She looked to the small mound of earth.  Why had she come here?  She asked herself this as she sat down on the damp grass, shivering as the wind licked it against her bare thighs, she felt the chill against the skin of her bare arms.  

             "I wish you were here, Remy," Rogue sighed, "or at least, here in mind as well as body," she hugged herself against the cold, looking at the mound, the sky was clear and an almost full moon shone down giving her enough light to see by.  "God I feel so stupid, I'm talking to a pile of dirt," she smirked at herself, "if only you could hear me now, Remy…if only."

             The wind whistled across the field, her hair whipped around her face and she fought to keep it out of her eyes.

             "God this is so unfair, Remy," she sighed, "I hate that I'm having to go through this, and I hate that I can't even look you in the face and say I hate you for still being in my life, or that I love you for the same reasons.  I can't even tell you I'm sorry for calling you a murderer…" Rogue dragged her fingers through the dirt as the emotion overwhelmed her.

             Somewhere in the distance she heard the faint sounds of occasional traffic from a road far off to the north.  She listened, pretending if she listened hard enough she'd hear Remy's voice telling her everything would be alright.

             But she didn't hear anything else, the wind rippled and whistled through the long grass evermore, building up to get louder, and she continued to let herself suffer the chills.

             "This is so unfair," Rogue said to the corpseless grave, "I shouldn't be having to through this…" she paused, then thinking, feeling selfish and stupid, "god, listen to me, you've lost your mind…your whole identity and I'm the one who's complaining," she laughed at herself somewhat nervously. 

             The soil remained still, Rogue didn't know what she expected of this one way conversation, but it provided her with some slight solace to talk to him as if he were there.  It soothed her troubled heart, easing the loneliness that only his presence could fill. "Maybe I'm not so selfish to complain, though, Remy," she finally sighed, "maybe I'm not selfish at all…" she lay back on the grass, looking up at the sky.

             The sky was velvety black, the stars scattered like tiny twinkling diamonds, the moon continuing to glow, breaking through the darkness.  Rogue watched her breath mist against the air.

             "It really isn't fair," Rogue sighed again, she watched the stars, tears brimming in her eyes.  "I didn't ask for you to be in my life, I never wanted you in my life…" she folded her arms over herself to hug herself against the cold, "I didn't even want you in the same building," she admitted to the grave, she turned to glance at it from the corners of her eyes, then looked back up to the sky, "you forced your way into my life, you were everywhere I was…you got under my skin…you gave me a taste of what I'd never had before knowing that I'd want more…" tears slid from the far corners of her eyes, down her temples.  "You pushed it all in my face and I didn't want it and now that I do its so obtainable that it stings to think about it."

             Rogue sat up slowly and looked at the filled hole, she would have given anything right then to just see his face and hear him call her Chere, hear him speak in romantic French, hear him say anything, even make a smart assed comment, just as long as it was him, and not the shell of the man in the Hospital Wing.

             "You pushed it all in my face and I'm not about to let you just slide away from it all…" Rogue wiped her tears away on the back of her hands, she propped herself up on her knees and dug her fingers deep into the damp soil, "Kitty was right, I shouldn't give up hope…not yet…its too soon, you're not dead, Remy, Bobby is wrong, you're not dead, you're just absent…you're not dead," she was breathing hard as she began to frantically dig the soil up with her bare hands.  She could feel worms between her fingers, and the dirt gathering under her fingernails, the wind picked up, howling around her, violently ruffling her short nightgown and her hair.  

             Clouds began to quickly form across the night sky, hiding the stars and concealing the moon, and soon it began to rain, heavily, pelting down on her hard.

             Finally just when her hands were beginning to ache from the digging, the last of the dug out soil came up, and she felt the plastic bag underneath, she yanked it up and hugged it close to her chest, more tears falling.  Solace rushed through her as she held the clear bag, Remy's items still inside.  If she couldn't be close to Remy this was the next best thing.

             She pulled herself up, exhaustion settling over her, she could no longer find the strength to fly, so she slowly walked in the wet grass and mud, being sprayed by the rain hugging the plastic bag still to her chest.  The door of the mansion remained locked, but she let herself in with a security code that automatically unlocked the door, she stepped inside, trailing mud onto the clean marble floors.

             "Oh…my…god…Rogue, where have you been?!"

             Rogue turned to see Kitty coming down the stairs clad in pink pyjamas and a cornflower blue robe, Kitty's face was aghast and Rogue couldn't understand why.  "Why are you looking at me like that…?"

             Kitty gestured towards the full length mirror on the nearest wall, her mouth still hanging open, her eyebrows raised. 

Rogue turned to stare at herself, her eyes finding her reflection, mud caked her knees and bare feet, her nightgown was soaked from the rain, and remained see-through to the point her black underwear was clearly visable, she partly smeared with dirt, great large hand prints of where she'd wiped mud off of her hands on her nightgown.  Her cheeks were also smeared with dirt, her hair dripping wet around her, a puddle growing at her feet as it trickled from her.

Rogue wasn't sure what to think, but her appearance was so pathetic and yet, she found herself burst out laughing to the point tears were streaming down her face, but not from sadness.

Kitty laughed too, and she approached, "its been ages since I heard you laugh…"

"Yeah," Rogue smiled, "I know," she tried to wipe the mud away from her cheeks but only succeeded in making it worse.

"Where were you?" Kitty asked.

"Went for a walk."

"In the rain?" Kitty raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, in the rain," Rogue now held the plastic bag to her chest to conceal her breasts from the transparency of her soaked white nightgown.

"What's that?" Kitty asked.

"Its hope," Rogue said sounding very tired.

Kitty was quite surprised, she glanced at the bag, recognising Remy's lockpicking kit amongst the items.  "So…you're going to take my advice then?" she asked.

Rogue began to head up the stairs, shivering with cold, before she left completely to go to bed, her last words were, "as if I'd listen to Bobby." 

(The End – or is it? DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNN).


End file.
